Hannibal To The Rescue
by ClariceEStarling
Summary: Hannibal notices his Little Starling in trouble and pain. He flies to Washington to help, but will he make it worse?


**DISCLAIMER:**

**I don't own anything other than the plot.**

Clarice had always thought of the Bureau as her home, but recently, it felt more like a prison. Paperwork and all of the boring tasks that other agents couldn't be bothered to do, were passed to her. She knew why of course. The events that had unfolded at Chesapeake Bay two months before had affected her job severely. It would have jeopardised it entirely, were it not for Jack Crawford. He had always wanted Starling to work in the Behavioural Science department, but Paul Krendler had stood in the way of it. Jack knew she was a good agent, but her job was going nowhere. Regrettably, Jack had no power in how the matter was dealt with, he could only advise on what was to be done. He fought for her survival at the bureau, which had help slightly.

Starling's home was fairly big, with four bedrooms and a bathroom. One bedroom was used as a study, another for herself, and the others were not used at all. Downstairs, was a rather large living room, complete with built in fireplace and huge paintings hanging from the dark crimson walls. Her kitchen was also large, with an island in the middle with three stools either side of it. She didn't cook much, in fact, she didn't cook at all. The contents of her fridge were mediocre, three bottles of Merlot, a few pieces of cheese and a bottle of milk. Starling liked to drink, wine in particular. She always had a sneaky bottle of Jack Daniel's hiding around somewhere, when the times got tough. This was one of those times.

Clarice pulled up on her driveway in her good old 65' Mustang. She collected a few things from her car, and walked up the few steps to her front door. On arriving at the door, she pulled her keys from her coat pocket, and opened the door. She walked into her house, and slammed the door behind her, dropping the box of her things onto the floor, kicking it under the table in the hallway. The mirror above the table held a very different picture of Clarice as it did 6 months ago. She was now a lot thinner, pale and tired. She padded into the kitchen, in search of the only man currently in her life. She pulled the bottle of Jack Daniel's out of the cupboard with a brandy glass, and also a bottle of wine from the fridge.

Before sitting on the couch, she placed the wine, Jack Daniel's and glass onto the coffee table next to it, and lit the fire. She then walked to the record player, fishing out her old favourite, Goldberg Variations. After placing it in the record player, she returned to the couch, picking up her bottle of Jack Daniel's, she poured herself a large glass, and sat down. She gulped it until it was all gone. After pouring herself another glass, she gazed into the fire that was dancing in the reflection of her eyes. It was magical.

Soon, her thoughts turned to Doctor Lecter. She placed her half empty glass onto the coffee table, and picked up the bottle of wine. After opening it, she swigged out of the bottle. She gazed back into the fire, and her eyes began to sting. When she blinked, a small tear escaped from her eye. She had never felt of alone in all of her life. With only bottles of alcohol to comfort her, she drank, and drank, until there was only half a bottle of the full Jack Daniel's that she had opened, and none of the bottle of wine she had taken from the fridge.

Her head felt fuzzy, and her vision began to blur. But still, she continued to drink, like nothing mattered anymore. Well, nothing did matter to her anymore. But she mattered to a certain someone, who wasn't going to let his little Starling drink her life away.

Hannibal Lecter was currently sitting in a café in Florence. He sipped his espresso as he turned his attentions to the newspaper in front of him. It read, **EX** **FBI SPECIAL AGENT IN TURMOIL, **in Italian, of knew the paper was correct. She was, after all, alone after being fired from the FBI, with no one left to comfort her. He decided to book the earliest flight possible to rescue his little Starling from herself.

12 hours later, Hannibal Lecter sat on a plane, waiting for it to land, sipping his almost empty glass of Chianti. Once the plane had landed, he retrieved his bag from the overhead compartment and departed. The whole journey had consisted of him wondering what to do when he arrived at Clarice's home.

Within an hour, a taxi had dropped him at the end of the street where Clarice lived. Carrying his bag, he walked slowly down the road, observing everything. It was dark, and the street was deserted. He was still on the opposite side of the road, when he arrived outside of Clarice's house. There were no lights on in the kitchen, or the two rooms upstairs that he could see through the windows. Perhaps she was asleep. He crossed the silent road to Clarice's house, and walked up the steps to her front door. Carefully, he picked the lock, and within seconds, the door clicked quietly, and he entered.

After closing the door silently, he could see a flicker of light coming from the living room, opposite the front door. He walked through the foyer, and stood in the doorway. There sat his little Starling, weeping as she held a bottle of wine in her hands, gulping out of it every few seconds. She was facing away from the good Doctor, looking into the dancing flames before her. There was an empty bottle of Jack Daniels beside her and he wrinkled his nose at the poor taste in drink.

He watched her for some minutes, before walking into the living room, and standing behind the couch that she leant her back against, facing the fire. She was too drunk to notice him, but that didn't mean that she was not thinking about him. **At least thirty seconds of everyday. **She remembered telling Barney in his apartment before Chesapeake. Tears were now flowing freely down her cheeks. **"Tell me Clarice, would you ever say, 'Stop, if you loved me you'd stop'?" **

"Not in a thousand years." She whispered into the dancing flames, making Hannibal smile.

"You still think about it don't you Clarice?" He murmured.

She did not turn around; she merely thought that he was inside her head. Due to all of the alcohol she had consumed, she answered truthfully.

"Yes." She continued to gulp out of the bottle.

"Do the lambs still scream Clarice? Now more than ever?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Tell me why Clarice."

"Because… Because you're gone."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Do I tame the lambs Clarice?"

She stood up, still facing the fire. "You left me." She shouted, throwing the bottle of wine into the flames.

It smashed off the back wall of the fireplace, and the alcohol made the fire roar.

"You left me." She whispered, collapsing on to the floor in a heap.

Hannibal ran to her, picking her up gently. "I'm here now my little Starling." He murmured.

He then carried her up the stairs, opening all of the doors, then on opening the last one, he found Clarice's bedroom. After placing her on the bed, he pulled the covers over her to keep her warm, and then fetched her some painkillers and a glass of water for the headache that he was certain she would have tomorrow. He wasn't sure whether she knew he was actually there or not, or whether her mind caused her to think she was hallucinating. Either way, he knew he had to leave.

He glanced at her sleeping form, and wondered how something so beautiful, could feel so much anger, and pain. After a while, she began to toss and turn in her sleep. He watched her closely. He cupped her face with his hands, trying not to wake her. Then, he gently kissed her soft lips. Her body stilled, and she smiled. He wasn't sure whether she was asleep or not.

She opened her eyes, thinking what she felt moments ago, was a dream. In the corner of the room, in the darkness, she could not see Hannibal Lecter standing, watching her. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could make out the objects, only just, that were in her bedroom. Her dressing table, her walk in wardrobe, her en-suite bathroom, and. **What the fuck?**

"Hello Clarice."

She sat up to look at him; he was standing at the end of her bed. To his surprise, she laughed a little, and then began to laugh hysterically, her laughter turning into sobs. He walked around to her slowly. She didn't move from where she was, she didn't look at him; she just stared at the place he stood moments ago.

"Clarice…" He whispered.

Tears were flowing freely down her face now; the affects of the alcohol were still evident.

"You're not here, you can't be." She breathed, still staring at the wall opposite the end of her bed.

"Sorry to disappoint my dear." He said, sitting on the edge of her bed next to her.

She turned her head slowly to face him.

"However Clarice, I know even though you no longer work for your precious Bureau, you would not abandon your moral duties." He murmured, standing up from the bed.

"They fucked me over." She muttered.

"Language my dear. But yes, they did, and I'm sorry. Now rest, you've had a lot to drink."

"Doctor?"

"Yes Clarice?"

"Please, just leave. Don't make it any harder for me than it already is, I beg of you. You are right, my morals stand in the way of all I do, perhaps for the best. But now, I'm not so sure, so please, do this, for me." She whispered the last few words so that they were barely audible.

He nodded. "Clarice?"

"Yes Doctor?"

"Please, do me one thing?"

"Anything." She said without thinking.

"Look after yourself, don't waste your tears on things that shouldn't even be thought about. Something's aren't worth it my dear."

"I can't help it." She whispered.

"You are strong, little Starling. My brave little Starling." He murmured, stroking her hair gently.

"I'm not strong. Or brave."

"Believe me Clarice, you are the most head strong woman I have ever met. The most beautiful woman I have ever met. The most emotional woman I have ever met. Take care of yourself my dear. I shan't call on you again, unless you need me."

And with that, he had left the room.

"I need you now." She whispered into the darkness.

She fell back to sleep sooner than she had hoped. She wanted him to come back, but she knew it was wrong, so very wrong.

The next morning, she woke up feeling surprisingly refreshed. She had a slight headache, and her eyes turned to the glass of water and painkillers that were on her bedside table. She hadn't noticed them there last night. Smiling, she picked the tablets up, and swallowed them with a few gulps of water.

After a few moments, she got up from her bed, and pulled on her sweatpants and a t-shirt. After brushing her teeth, and pulling her hair into a ponytail, she picked up her keys, and left the house. After locking the door behind her, she climbed into her Mustang and drove to her favourite place to go running. It was a large, enclosed forest, with a small lane running through the middle of it. There was a little stream flowing through the forest also. She pulled up on the stony car park and got out of the Mustang. She took a deep breath of the cool air that was flowing around her. After locking her car door, she began to jog down the path way and into the forest. She ran the same route every time; it became a habit. After running for a while, she slowed down into a jog. She was now jogging along the small lane. There was no one in sight, but she felt like she was being watched. She turned abruptly, to find no one there. She laughed nervously, and continued to run.

Hannibal Lecter watched her through the trees, and then walked back to his car, which he had parked next to Clarice's. Before getting into his own car, he picked the lock of Clarice's car, and sat in the driver's seat. It smelt like her. Her beautiful strawberry scented shampoo and her L'Air du Temps perfume. He placed his hands on the steering wheel, smiling. He left her a handwritten note on her dashboard. He wiped the steering wheel with a cloth to remove his fingerprints. After a few moments, he got out of her car, locked the door, and sat in his own. He waited until she was near her car, before he started his engine. The blacked out windows made it virtually impossible for him to be seen. When she climbed into the car, and noticed the note, that was when he drove away. She watched the car in her rear view mirror, and without reading the note; she started her engine abruptly, and followed at a safe distance.

Hannibal drove out of the area, and onto the highway. He caught a glimpse of Clarice's noisy old Mustang every few moments, dodging in and out of cars. He got off the highway after about fifteen minutes, and then drove to the airport. Clarice parked a few cars away from his, and quickly read the note that was still sitting on the dashboard.

**Clarice,**

**I know I promised I wouldn't call on you, but this is a little different, don't you think? I'd like to continue our little games together; I do enjoy them. Florence is a beautiful place you know Clarice. Annabel Lichter is a beautiful name, is it not? And 1109 is a funny number isn't it? Well, I think I should let you pursue me now my dear. **

**Ta ta**

She read the note over and over. **Who the fuck is Annabel Lichter? **She pondered for a few moments.

"Anagram." She whispered to herself.

After a few seconds, she realised.

"Hannibal Lecter."

**1109? What the fuck?** **Florence? 'Let you pursue me'? **

She had come to the conclusion that Hannibal Lecter was on his way to Florence; and he wanted her to follow him. She drove to the nearest airport she could think of, and within twenty minutes, she pulled up outside. S he glanced at her surroundings. Then she jumped out of the car, locking the door behind her, and running to the entrance of the airport, note in hand. She looked at the huge board with the flight times written on it.

One read, **Florence: 11:09**

"Bingo." She grinned.

Glancing at her watch, it was 11:03. **Shit. **She ran to the check in desk.

"Um, Annabel Lichter." She murmured.

The woman at the desk observed Clarice.

"Ah yes. Here you are, you better hurry Miss Lichter." The woman handed Clarice her ticket.

**That was easier than I thought. **She took the ticket, and ran down the hallway to the plane, following the arrows. Within ten minutes, she was on the plane, finding her seat. Before she realised, she found herself in first class. She shook her head, sighing. She found her seat, and sat down. There was an empty seat next to her. She looked around for Doctor Lecter, but she could not see him. Another ten minutes passed, and the plane was about to take off. A flight attendant approached me, with a small piece of paper.

"Miss Lichter?"

"Yes?"

"This is for you ma'am. Would you like anything to drink?" He said brightly, passing her the paper.

"Um, a gin and tonic would be lovely, thank you."

She watched the flight attendant walk away before opening the note.

**Clarice,**

**Your bravery is encouraging Clarice. I'm not surprised you followed me, however I am surprised to see you sitting where you are. **

She stopped reading and glanced around the plane. He was nowhere to be seen.

I am happy to see you on here at such short notice my dear, we will talk face to face very soon, but now, you should rest, you look tired.

**H**

She glanced around again.

"Where are you doctor?" She murmured.

The flight attendant approached her again, holding her gin and tonic. She took it from him, smiling.

"Do you happen to know how to find out who is on this flight?" She said a little hopefully.

"I can find out for you ma'am. Any name in particular?"

"Um, could you possibly get me a list?"

"Of course, I'll be right back ma'am." He smiled again.

Within a few minutes, he was back again, holding another sheet of paper.

"Here you are, this is the list of everyone on board."

"Thank you very much." She murmured, taking the list from him.

"Will that be all?"

"Yes, thank you." She said, gulping her gin and tonic.

She waited for him to walk away, before looking at the list. It would be short, as the plane was smaller than most. She scanned down the list, finding a name near the bottom, which stood out to her. Doctor Lichter, seat 204, second class. She called the flight attendant back over.

"Could you possibly give this to Doctor Lichter, second class, seat 204, please?" She asked politely, holding out the folded piece of paper. "It's private." She warned.

"Of course ma'am." He took the paper from her and disappeared.

Doctor Lecter was sitting in second class, sipping his glass of Chianti. The flight attendant approached him.

"Doctor Lichter?"

"Yes?"

"This is for you sir."

"Why thank you." He said, taking the paper from him.

He opened it carefully.

**Doctor,**

**What you are doing is very dangerous. Please do not do it on my behalf. As much as my morals stand in my way, I do not want to see you incarcerated again. The seat next to me is empty; join me.**

**Clarice**

He smiled when he received her note, and then got up, taking his small bag from the vacant seat next to him, and his glass of Chianti. He walked slowly to the first class, finding Clarice in the seat he had booked for her. He approached her.

"Hello my dear." He said, sitting beside her.

"Doctor Lecter." She whispered.

"Your note, Clarice, made me smile."

"And why is that Doctor?" She twisted in her seat, so she could see him a little better.

"Why do you not want to see me incarcerated again Clarice? I would have thought your daddy would have told you that wanting that was wrong. You still think about him don't you? And how he left you, with the screaming lambs that are still so loud in your sleep."

"Stop it, please stop it." She whispered.

"You're breaking Clarice. You must be strong."

"I can't."

"I have never lied to you, have I Clarice?"

She didn't answer.

"Have I Clarice?" He said a little more sternly.

"No." She breathed.

"I do not want to repeat what I said to you before. You just have to believe it yourself Clarice. Believe what you must, but sometimes, believing the wrong things, don't always make you right."

"Doctor?"

"Yes Clarice?"

"You know I'll be locked up if they find out who either of us are."

"No Clarice, they will not find out. If they did, you'd have a choice."

"And what's that Doctor?" She said, knowing what the choices were.

"Live like I used to, incarcerated, with no escape. Or run."

"Run where? I have no family, no where to go." She whispered.

"Run with me." He said, looking at her for the first time since he had sat next to her.

"You know I can't do that."

"What's stopping you Clarice? Is it the thought of disappointing your daddy, or the thought of Jack Crawford hating you for being who you are, or is it because you don't truly know how you feel. Or you do, but you just can't admit it. Hm?"

She blinked slowly, a tear dripping down her cheek. He raised his hand, wiping the tear away with his thumb. She caught a glimpse of the wound on his hand. Her eyes widened slightly.

"Don't dwell on the past my dear, it does you no good. Only harm will come by thinking of the past."

"I'm sorry." She breathed.

"It wasn't your fault Clarice. Now, sleep, or you'll be very tired when we arrive in Florence." He murmured.

She nodded, and shifted herself into a comfortable position. After a while, he found that she had moved in her sleep, to rest her head on his shoulder. He smiled warmly, and kissed her hair. After a while, the seatbelt warning sign flashed to indicate the plane would be landing soon. Without wanting to wake her, Hannibal reached over her carefully, and clipped the seatbelt in place, before doing his own. After a long and arduous flight, Clarice and the good Doctor landed in Florence.

"Clarice, my dear, we have arrived." He murmured.

Her head was still resting on his shoulder when she awoke.

"Oh." She said, shaking her head. "I'm sorry." She said, rather embarrassed.

"Not at all my dear, you slept which is the main thing."

"Mhm."

"We should go." He murmured, getting up from his seat, and letting her walk in front of him.

"Thank you." She smiled, walking past him.

**Jesus Christ Starling, what are you doing? **Her conscience screamed loud and clear at her, but being with this so-called psychopath, made her feel relaxed. To her, he was a normal, extraordinary man. After departing from the plane, there was a beautiful black Jaguar waiting for them. He grinned at her, as he opened the passenger door for her, before getting into the driver's side.

"This car is stunning." She murmured, relaxing into her seat.

"Yes, it is." He smiled slightly.

He placed a cassette into the player, and a captivating piece of music began to play. This was the type of music that told a story, but needed no words to show how the composer felt.

"What is this Doctor?" She said, finally breaking the silence as they were driving through the crowded streets of Florence.

"Frederick Chopin my dear. Exemplary isn't it?"

"Yes. It's wonderful. How someone could put their heart and soul into a piece of music, which tells a story along the way. It's just, remarkable."

"What does this piece tell you Clarice? What's its story?"

"It's sad. Lonely almost." She remembered her childhood very well. The death of her father crushed her.

"It sounds like the composer has just lost something or someone very dear to him." She paused, contemplating whether to tell him what she really felt.

"It's like, me." She breathed.

"Do you feel lonely Clarice?"

"Yes." She whispered.

"You don't have to be lonely. You feel it is a punishment, do you not? For letting your daddy down?"

She nodded, and glanced out of the window as she blinked a tear, which spilled, down her cheek, and onto her neck. The music was making her finally realise how she felt, about everything. The way the Bureau had treated her, the way her father's death had affected her, and the way she felt, about the man who sat so near to her, but felt so far away.

"What are you thinking Clarice? What's troubling you?"

"You don't want to know Doctor." She gave a nervous, emotional laugh.

"Yes, I do Clarice. I want to help." He murmured.

They were coming out of the bustling city, and entering a more remote area.

"Where are we going Doctor?"

"Surprise. Now stop avoiding the question. What are you thinking Clarice?"

"I'm thinking, that I should not be here, that I should be at the Bureau, doing some stupid paperwork for Noonan. But, somehow-."

He cut her off.

"Somehow, you feel relaxed here, with me. Somehow your morals are changing slightly. Your head is screaming for you to run, but your heart says something different. Am I right Clarice?"

"Yes. But how?"

He just smiled, and did not answer her question. She forgot about it. She began to fall to sleep.

"Not far to go now my dear. Sleep, I'll wake you when we arrive."

And with that, she was asleep. The gently rocking of the car speeding along the road felt like a lullaby. Even after arriving at the huge house in a remote part of Florence, she did not wake as the car pulled slowly to a halt. He got out of the car, closed his door silently, and went to Clarice's side. He opened the door, and she stirred, but did not wake. He picked her up gently, and carried her towards the house.

After unlocking the door, he carried her upstairs to one of the four bedrooms. He placed her on the bed, and pulled the covers gently over her. He then glanced at the clock on the wall, 6:50pm.

"Hm." He left Clarice's sleeping form, and went back downstairs to start cooking dinner.

After half an hour, Clarice awoke. She looked around the room, puzzled, but after a few moments passed, she realised where she was. She smelt the faint aroma of cooking coming from down the stairs. After climbing out of the bed, she walked to the dressing table and stared at herself in the mirror. She looked exhausted. She had no colour in her skin, and she looked weak, not like the strong Starling the Bureau knew a few months before. She walked out of the room, and onto the landing. Then she walked down the huge staircase, following the wonderful smells. She led herself into the kitchen, finding Doctor Lecter attending to the stove.

"Good evening Clarice. Sleep well?" He said, not turning around.

"Yes, thank you." She paused. "Doctor…" She paused again, this time catching his attention.

He turned and gazed at her standing in the doorway. She looked ill, drained.

"Clarice, you know you can leave, anytime you like. I will not stop you. Do you want to leave Clarice?"

"I should."

She moved into the kitchen, standing by the table, which stood in between the Doctor and herself.

"No. That's not what I asked. What do you want Clarice? Don't tell me what you think is morally right. What do you desire?"

"I… I can't." She breathed.

"Yes you can." He hissed.

She didn't reply. He walked over to her slowly, every step he took, she took one back, until she was against the wall. She could feel his warm breath on her face. She turned her head, so her right cheek was nearly touching the wall.

"Clarice. What do you desire? What does your heart want the most?" His voice was nothing more than a whisper.

She closed her eyes as he spoke, blinking a tear, which dripped down her flushed cheek. She knew, but she didn't want to admit it. It was wrong, in so many ways, but it felt so right.

"Tell me." He hissed.

She turned her head, so their faces were centimetres apart. His body was nearly touching hers. Her breathing increased, she blinked her eyes shut for a moment. Another tear ran slowly down her cheek. He wiped it gently with his thumb.

"Clarice? I wont ask again."

"You. My heart wants you." She breathed. "No matter how wrong my head thinks it is, my heart thinks it's so very right." She said quickly.

He took a step back from her, and gave her a one sided smile.

"Shall we?" He gestured towards the table.

She nodded, taking a seat, nearest to the door, with another place set out opposite her. He turned off the stove, and served their meal. Before sitting down, he took a bottle of Chianti from the fridge and poured them both a glass. Clarice didn't look the Doctor in the eye whilst they were sitting at the table; she kept her eyes down. He looked at her every now and again, noticing how nervous and embarrassed she was. He did not make the effort to speak; he wanted her to feel relaxed. She finished her glass of wine fairly quickly, and he poured her another. After they had finished their meal, Hannibal cleared the plates away.

"Would you like to go to bed now my dear?"

She nodded. "I'm still very tired. I don't even think that is possible the amount I have slept the past day or so." She laughed.

"It is indeed possible." He smiled.

He took her hand gently, and led her up the stairs. He stopped at a room at the end of the hallway. He opened the door, and pushed it open before speaking.

"Goodnight my dear, sleep well." He said, leaving the room.

She walked into the large room. She glanced at her watch, 7:30pm.

"Wow." She murmured sarcastically.

She looked around the room, and her eyes fell upon the wardrobe. **He wouldn't have? **She walked towards it, and on opening it, she found several dresses and other items of clothing. On the shelf below there were some nightwear and underwear. Her cheeks flushed pink at the thought of Hannibal Lecter picking her underwear. She chose a pale blue satin nightdress and matching underwear. She padded into the en-suite bathroom, and found her favourite strawberry scented shampoo and other necessities. She smiled at him knowing such tiny details about her. She placed her nightwear on the chair in the bathroom, along with the clothing she was wearing, and then she stepped into the shower.

The water was warm as it cascaded down her slender body. She had noticed that in the past few months, she had lost weight. After standing under the warm water for a while, she lathered shampoo on her hair, rinsed it off, and washed her body. She got out of the shower and towel dried her hair. She looked at herself in the mirror; of course, she didn't like what she saw. At least she looked a little more refreshed after her shower. She then changed into her nightclothes, and climbed into bed. The fabric was silky against her skin, and the bed sheets were warm and inviting. She soon fell to sleep, smiling for once.

Downstairs, Hannibal was listening to his favourite, Goldberg Variations on the record player. He was on his third glass of wine, smiling at the dancing flames before him, as he sipped the liquid. He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece, 8:45. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand, and placed the glass of wine on the coffee table beside the couch. He got up and walked to the bookcase near the record player. There were many great books there. He settled for Dante's Sonnet's. He sat back down on the dark red couch, and began reading the book. He had always enjoyed reading this type of book; it relaxed him. He could read books all day, but he was starting to get tired after an hour or so. He finished his glass of wine, and poured himself another. After putting the book back in its place on the shelf, he sat back down. He glanced at the clock on the mantel, 10:20. He was surprised at how long he had read for, considering how tired he was. Gazing into the flames, he sipped his wine. He heard the stairs creek. After a few moments, Clarice entered quietly, standing in the doorway. The couch was facing away from her, and Hannibal did not turn around.

"It's getting late my dear. Can you not sleep?" He murmured.

"I slept a little, I'd just, rather not right now." She said, approaching the couch.

She stood in front of him, halfway between the fireplace and the couch. He gazed at her beautiful body. She was wearing the pale blue nightdress he had picked for her.

"I see you found the clothes?"

"Yes, you have exceptional taste Doctor. Thank you." She sat down on the couch at the other end.

The couch was fairly small, so although she was at the other end, they were sitting close together.

"How did you know I'd come Doctor?"

"I had hoped my dear." He passed her his glass of wine.

"Thank you." She said taking it.

They sat in silence for a while. She sipped the wine, the warm liquid sliding sleekly down her throat. She passed him the glass back, half of it still left.

"You surprise me Clarice."

"Mhm?" She shifted so she could see him a little better.

He also moved a little, so he could see her better. Their knees touched slightly.

"I thought you would have ran by now."

"I told you, my heart doesn't want that. And evidentially my heart is stronger than my head." She murmured, looking into his eyes.

"I'm glad." He said, looking at her.

"So am I." She whispered. "I didn't know I could feel this way, about anyone."

"Neither did I. After my sister died, I didn't think I'd ever be able to love again…" He smiled. "But I love you Clarice Starling."

She sighed. A sigh of contempt. "I love you too Hannibal." She whispered back.


End file.
